Page 43 of Capturing Perfection

Logan took his first real breath since he saw Clay go down on the video. “Thank you, Dr. Clinton. May I go see him now?”

“He’s in recovery, and they should move him to his room soon. The nurse will tell you where to go. Do you have any other questions?”

“No, sir, not right now.”

The doctor nodded his head, then stood. He left the room, and Logan turned to the group. Trevor held his arms open, and Logan gratefully accepted the comfort. Before he knew it, his eyes were watering, and he struggled to control his breathing.

“It’s okay, Logan. Clay is going to heal.”

He nodded his head. He knew that. The tears were not of sorrow but relief. He felt a crushing weight lift from his chest. He would not lose Clay, like he had Brian. Clay was alive. He would feel Clay’s arms around him again, feel their lips press together. They would continue to love, deeper and stronger than before, with the second or really third chance they’d been given. He sat up and wiped his eyes. Trevor handed him a tissue from the box on the table.

“Thanks, Trev … again,” he said, smiling. "And you guys. I just froze and…"

"That's why we offered to stay. We've both been in situations where we have to counsel patients and their families on complicated and traumatic news. Most only hear about twenty percent of what we say the first time, so it helps to have multiple sets of ears and brains present to get the full scope of information. Now, if it's okay with you, we will go share the good news with the rest of the gang."

Logan nodded and gave Vic and Chase a hug. "Thank you. Really."

"Anytime, Logan. But hopefully not soon." Chase said.

Trevor held the door open. "Now, let’s go find your man."

Chapter Fifteen

Logan sat beside Clay’s bed, waiting for him to wake up. The multitude of tubes entering and leaving his lover’s body was daunting, but he kept repeating the doctor’s words in his head. Clay would make a complete recovery. Right now, his skin was pale, he was being supplied extra oxygen until his lungs could support themselves. The anesthetic given during the lifesaving procedure silenced his normally larger-than-life personality. Now, it was a waiting game. That was okay; Logan had nothing but time.

“Hey Logan, we’re going to take the kids home. You need anything?” Rick asked, poking his head in the doorway.

“No, thank you, Rick. Tell Conor and everyone the same. We appreciate you guys dropping everything to be here. Oh, and tell the boys Clay and I will take them to the aquarium as soon as he’s better.”

Rick smiled. “I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic. You know they love spending time with you two.”

“I’m sure you, Conor, and Calleigh appreciate the free time, too. In fact, we may just take Allanah off your hands while we’re at it. Think you three could find something to occupy yourselves for an entire afternoon?”

Logan laughed at Rick’s expression. The longing, lust, and love for his husband and wife were obvious to the most casual observer.

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“I’ll bet. Now, get out of here. Oh wait! Is anyone else still lingering out there?”

“Ethan and Ryan are here, but Ryan was talking about getting Ethan home. It’s been a long day. Vic and Chase left about twenty minutes ago. I haven’t seen your buddy Trevor or Matt for awhile.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Rick tapped on the doorframe in goodbye, and Logan looked back at the still man on the bed. He slid his hand beneath Clay’s on the mattress and rested his chin on the plastic rail. His eyes were heavy, and it was getting difficult to keep them open. It seemed like the adrenaline that had coursed through his system throughout the day had run its course and he was about to crash. If experience held true, it would be a hard landing. He kissed the back of Clay’s hand and placed it back on the bed, then pushed the chair into a reclining position and closed his eyes. He would just take a little nap, recharge his batteries and be ready for when Clay woke up.

It felt as if Clay’s brain was stuffed with cotton. When he swallowed, someone had implanted sandpaper in his throat, and his side burned as if all the minions of hell were having a party in his chest.

What the fuck had happened? Clay searched his fragmented mind until his memories coalesced into a clear image. Courthouse … gunman … hostages … shots fired. Well that explained why his side hurt. Why hadn’t his vest protected him?

He tried to open his eyes, but the lids refused to obey his commands. Something simpler, maybe? He wiggled his finger, then his toes. Well, at least, he knew he wasn’t paralysed. Then again, he didn't think people with paralysis felt pain like this. Maybe they did?

I don't know that requires more brain power than I'm capable ofrightnow.

Clay tried to open his eyes, but this time with more success. The room was blurry, but he saw the plain white walls of the generic hospital room. Hospital sounds registered, and so did the soft snuffles of someone breathing nearby. He’d recognizethose sounds anywhere. Logan was with him and, by the sound of it, deeply asleep. Clay turned his head and saw Logan’s large frame curled up on the recliner next to the bed. He lay on his side facing Clay and, as Clay suspected, fast asleep. It took a lot for Logan to crash that hard. Normally, the man slept lighter than a cat, waking at the slightest noise. He still took medication to help him sleep at night since nightmares were a recurring problem.

Clay was loath to wake his lover, but wished he could see the dark blue eyes. In their depths, he could read the truth. As if a genie granted his desire, the lids opened and their gazes locked. Logan jumped up from the chair and bent over his bed. A warm hand smoothed back the hair from Clay’s forehead, and the softest, most perfect lips he’d ever tasted bestowed their welcome on his chapped skin.

“I love you, Clay.”

---